Hell Bent

by Devon Monk

  “Don’t want your pity. Don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Is she still angry? Can you hear her? Talk to her?”

  I dug in my pocket, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, smoked. Didn’t open the window.

  He rolled his eyes at my petty disobedience. “She wanted the statue, didn’t she?” he asked. “Why?”

  I glanced over at him, lifted the cigarette to my mouth, inhaled, tipped the sunglasses down so he could see my eyes. When he looked over at me, I said, “Leave it the hell alone.”

  “Maybe I could help you with her. Maybe we could—”

  “No,” I said. “We did what we could. We tried what could be tried. Now I deal with it my way, and you don’t ever speak of it again.”

  He glanced in the rearview again. “Later,” he said. “We’ll talk about it later.” Then he turned his attention to where it might actually do some good—looking for parking.

  Found a spot a block away from the office, which was about as good as we were going to get at this hour. I was not looking forward to the walk in the rain, but I was looking forward to getting out of the car and the silence that was filled with Terric’s promise to not let the Eleanor situation go.

  Pushed the door open before the engine was off, clomped across the sidewalk and under the awning. We were in front of a bank. It was an uphill walk to the office. Not as many people out right now, which made it easier on my hunger. I lit another cig, then put my boots to work.

  Terric was still in the car. Even though I wasn’t looking at him, I could sense him, his heartbeat, his mood. Being around him so much lately only made me more aware of him. Right now he was angry, but more than that, I sensed sorrow.

  Who knew what he was sad about? Could be any number of things: the loss of his job, Joshua’s death, Eleanor’s not-death, Jeremy . . . or me. Or maybe it was just that he didn’t like the idea I was going to take care of Eli the best way I knew how—by killing him.

  I felt more than heard him get out of the car. Felt more than heard his footsteps in the rain, jogging to catch up with me. Then he was beside me, matching my stride.

  “Just because you don’t think a conversation needs to happen doesn’t mean it isn’t going to.”

  “I said drop it, mate.”

  “Drop it. Drop the fact that you have a ghost—an undead soul tied to you, trapped, haunting you every second of the day? No wonder you’re so damn morose.”

  “Drop it just like I dropped you not wanting to believe that Jeremy is a lying bastard.”

  “This isn’t about me—it’s about you,” he said. “We can save her, Shame. The answer to every problem isn’t always killing or ignoring every damn thing.”

  I stopped, turned to him. “What if I don’t want an answer, Terric? What if I like killing things? What if I look for every opportunity to kill?”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “What? Don’t tell you the truth?” I lowered my voice. “You are a piece of work, Conley. You say you want to talk, but you don’t want to listen, do you? I am not you. I am not a good guy. I destroy things. I like it. I like killing. I like that Eleanor is shackled to me. Because it reminds me of the power I have. Power you should not underestimate.”

  I pulled my hand into a fist and arcs of red electricity licked across my rings.

  Terric squared off from me, the Void stone necklace at his chest burning with white-green light.

  And he smiled. The son of a bitch smiled.

  “You don’t frighten me, Flynn. Your magic doesn’t frighten me. And neither do your lies.”

  I lifted my fist.

  He lifted his hand.

  I never even had a chance to draw on magic.

  Pain, hot and twisting, shuddered through my head and down my spine.

  Had lightning just nailed me to the ground?

  Terric hissed, and I knew he felt the same pain.

  I hadn’t cast anything. Hadn’t hit him.

  He hadn’t cast anything. Hadn’t hit me.

  “What the hell?” I breathed.

  Terric’s gaze met mine, his blue eyes wide in the falling rain.

  And I knew it, knew the reason for the pain at the exact moment he did.

  “They broke it,” Terric said. “Someone broke magic.”

  “Zay,” I said, swallowing back the burnt scent of mint and rose. “Jesus. Zay’s hurt. Or Allie. One of them.”

  We ran to the car. Terric outpaced me, but only by a step or two. In the car, doors slammed, engine. Terric tore through the city, heading northeast. Heading to St. Johns. Heading to Zayvion and Allie.

  He tossed me his phone. I caught it without looking, dialed Clyde.

  “This is Clyde Turner,” he answered.

  “It’s Shame. Someone broke magic. We think it’s Zay and Allie. We think they’ve been hit.”

  “Hit by magic?”

  “We don’t know. We’re going out there now.” I hung up. Terric probably would have told him to call the cops, or the cavalry or whoever it was we had to answer to these days, but I did not give a single damn about procedure.

  Terric and I were enough to deal with whatever was going down.

  His phone rang. Dash. I thumbed it on speaker and answered, “Shame.”

  “The police are on their way,” he said. “Do you need anything else? Anyone else?”

  “We got it,” I said.

  “Were there any reports?” Terric asked. “Has anyone else called this in?”

  “No,” Dash said. “Just you two.”

  “Let us know if you hear anything,” Terric said.

  “I will. Be careful.” Dash hung up. I did too.

  Terric pulled up to Zay and Allie’s place, double-parking on the gravel lane that ran between their three-story farmhouse and the empty lot in front of the river. They had a front door. We didn’t use it.

  We jogged past their low stone fence, the leafless rosebushes, and the hedge of dormant daisies. Past the garden Allie was so proud of, which held three decent-sized pumpkins and some random gourds and flowers the Hounds had thought would be funny to plant when she wasn’t looking, up the weathered wooden steps of the porch, to the kitchen side door.

  I tried the door handle. It was unlocked.

  Got exactly one step into the room.

  A fist came out of nowhere and hit me in the head like a bull at full charge.

  Holy shit.

  I stumbled into Terric, who didn’t bother catching me on my way down to the floor. He was halfway through a spell.

  “Stop.” Allie’s voice. Allie. I blinked upward. At a very angry Zayvion Jones, who was glowering down over me, his eyes molten gold.

  “Jesus, Zay,” I said. “We came here to help you.”

  “Zay,” Allie said calmly. “It’s Shame and Terric. Let them in.”

  I didn’t think Zay was listening in the language we were speaking.

  “Zayvion,” Terric said. “It’s all right. We got this. The police are on their way. Tell us what happened.”

  For no apparent reason, he listened to that.

  Zay closed his eyes, opened them again. Still gold, but this time there was sanity mixed in with the anger. “We were attacked.”

  “Fuck,” I said, picking myself up off the floor. I wiped the blood off my nose and almost howled. “Also, you broke my nose. Asshole.”

  “Are you all right?” Allie said.

  “I’m fine.” I looked at Zay and he finally moved that mountain of muscle over to one side so I could walk the rest of the way into the room.

  They had the old-fashioned farm kitchen thing to go with the rest of the old-fashioned farmhouse. I walked to the oversized sink and found a washcloth hanging from the facet. Used that to mop up the blood running out of my face. Then turned to get a look at the situation.

  Allie was sitting at their kitchen table. She had been crying. Zay was still in guard mode. Terric was trying to talk him down toward something resembling reason. Wasn’t getting anywhere.


  “For crap’s sake.” I pinched my nose with the cloth, crossed over to Zayvion, grabbed his wrist, then led him over to Allie, who held her hand up for him. “She’s fine and she’s right here.”

  Their fingers touched and I pulled my hand quickly away from the connection between them—an almost physical sense of heat.

  “What happened?” Terric asked again. “Allie, we felt magic break. Did you break it?”

  She nodded. Her eyes were wet. “I don’t know why I’m crying. This is so . . .” She wiped at her eyes with her free hand and sniffed, then took a deep breath. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt. I’m just angry.”

  “Want to tell Mr. Jones to stand down and make with the talking?” I asked.

  She looked up at Zay. Maybe for the first time realized how furious he still was. “Zayvion, I’m fine. The baby’s fine too.”

  Right. Baby. No wonder why Zay had gone feral.

  “Tell us what happened, Z,” I said as I leaned back against the counter, rag over my nose. “Tell us why you broke magic.”

  Maybe it was the angle of light from where I was standing, but that’s when I noticed Zayvion’s black T-shirt was dark with blood. He was injured.

  “Zay, mate,” I said. “You’re bleeding.”

  Terric was looking out the door, but at that, turned and shut it. “Sit down, Zay.”

  Zay sat in the chair next to Allie, and Terric lifted his shirt to see the damage.

  “Who did this?”

  “Collins,” Allie said. “It was Eli Collins.”

  Chapter 19

  “Everything you can tell us,” I said. “Quickly. Zay. Step it up, man. Use words.”

  Terric was at the sink now, getting a clean cloth wet so we could clear some of the blood off Zay’s chest to see if there was a serious wound beneath it all.

  “We were at the table,” Zay said in that very, very calm tone he had that really meant he was very, very angry. “We both heard something crack. He was standing inside our kitchen. Smiling.”

  Zay jerked as Terric pressed the cloth on his stomach. “Did he shoot you?”

  “No,” Allie said. “He had a knife. He didn’t want to kill Zayvion.”

  Zay picked up where Allie left off. “He wanted to hurt me and make me watch while he killed Allie. Said he was going to carve the life out of her.”

  The baby.

  Fuck.

  “So you broke magic,” I said.

  “We broke magic,” they said simultaneously.

  “Did you kill the bastard?” I asked.

  “No,” Zay said. “He had something like a gate.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen it. Tech, I think.”

  “You’ve seen it?” Allie asked. “You’ve seen Eli? When?”

  “Last night. He left me a message. Said that people are going to die if I don’t find him and save him. Oh, and he’s the one who’s going to do the killing.”

  “Why would he warn you that he’s going to kill people?” The shock of what had just happened appeared to be wearing off and Allie was back on her game.

  The distant wail of sirens filled the air. Maybe the police, maybe an ambulance. Maybe coming here.

  “He said he’s being held captive and being used to kill people. People like Joshua. He said they’re holding his soul. His Soul Complement.”

  “He’s lying,” Zay said.

  “No,” Terric said. “Victor told us. They’ve known who his Soul Complement is for years. She had been in a mental institution all this time until she disappeared a short while ago. Victor took away Collins’s memory of her.”

  “Shit.” He exhaled. “How long?”

  “She’s fifteen in the file photo,” I said. “Thirty-five now. And Eli says they might have her.”

  “What do they want with him?” Allie asked.

  “Their very own Soul Complement pair weapon? I’ll give you one guess. But the thing we ought to worry about, boys and girls, is that he’s a Breaker. Even though she’s damaged and he’s bat-shit crazy, if they work together, they can break magic and make it do whatever they want it to do.”

  “What isn’t adding up for me,” Terric said, “is why Eli came here with a knife. He’s not shy about guns. He’s not shy about taking his one shot and making it count.”

  That was true. Eli liked death, destruction, and bloody mayhem and didn’t mind getting his hands dirty. “So he didn’t want to kill Zay. Probably didn’t want to kill Allie. Or at least not quickly. Did he have anything else with him?”

  “A needle.”

  I nodded. “Right. Had that with me too. But no tranq gun?”

  Zay frowned. “No.”

  I looked over at Terric. “Maybe this was a diversion. Maybe this was just to scare us. Force Allie and Zay to run. Or force them to stay. It feels like a chess move, more than an attack.”

  “The hole in my chest says otherwise,” Zay said.

  The sirens were getting closer.

  “Are you staying?” I asked.

  Allie and Zay looked at each other. Maybe read each other’s thoughts.

  Allie nodded. “We’re staying. We’ll set up Hounds to keep an eye on the house.”

  “He has the tech to show up anywhere he wants,” I said. “Hounds wouldn’t react fast enough.”

  “We’ll set up guards,” Zay said. “Trip spells. Traps.”

  “You’d have to break magic for anything to be strong enough to stop him,” Terric said. “And with the baby . . .”

  “The baby will be fine,” Allie said.

  I didn’t care how brave and steady her words were. She was white as a sheet. This had scared the hell out of her. She was afraid the baby would be damaged if they broke magic and used it. Was probably already worried the baby had been damaged.

  “We’ll do it,” I said.

  No one hurt my friends. No one.

  Zay looked at me, raised one eyebrow. “Who?”

  “Terric and me. We’ll break magic, set the traps and trips, make it so that if he techs into the place again, he’s knocked out cold. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

  Silence in the room. I thought Terric had gone completely mute.

  “When was the last time you two broke magic?” Allie asked.

  “I do not like the tone of your voice, young lady,” I said. “We’re . . . capable. We can do it.”

  Zay was staring at me like I was an unsolvable puzzle. He took a breath and looked over at Terric instead. “What do you think?”

  “Really, Jones?” I asked. “First you punch me in my beautiful face. Then you kick me right in my tender ego. I don’t need Terric’s permission to make a plan. A good plan.”

  “We can do it,” Terric said with a smoothness that probably hid the fear I could feel in the fast beat of his heart. He didn’t want to break magic with me.

  Or maybe he really desperately did.

  Didn’t matter. Didn’t care. We were doing it. Discussion done.

  “Let’s get it done before the police arrive. We’ll pull from the crystal well,” I said, tugging my rings off, one by one. “Three levels of spells. By the time he’s able to break through all three protections—if he can break through them—Zay and Allie will either be out of the house, ready to defend themselves with magic—”

  “Or have guns in our hands,” Zay finished.

  “Right,” I said. “That works too.” I started pacing, suddenly full of too much restless energy. “Three spells: Block, Hold, Sleep. Or maybe not Sleep. We could do Pain, or Freeze, or something more permanent.”

  Yes, I was talking a mile a minute. I was nervous. It had been a long, long time since we’d broken magic. I had an overwhelming need to control this event.

  “Shame,” Terric said. I think he’d been talking to Zay and Allie while I paced. I think they’d decided on things without me. Also, Zay had a new towel he was pressing against the puncture wound.

  So, I’d lost some time.

  “Let’s take this outside. Allie needs to be at some distance
from us when we break magic to protect the baby. And since the police are almost here, we don’t have a lot of time.”

  “The police can wait. I’m not going to cast a crappy spell because they’re in the way.”

  “It will be fine,” he said.

  “Of course it’s fine. Of course it will be fine. Fine is the way it’s always going to be.”

  Okay, now I was rambling.

  Terric walked over to the door. Opened it. Pointed outside. Like I was some kind of dog who needed to pee. “Outside.”

  Zay was already on his feet. He didn’t move like he was in much pain, but then, he had been through worse than a knife in the gut. He wrapped his arm around Allie protectively and she leaned into him as they walked out of the kitchen.

  It was odd to see Allie so shaken by this. She was one of the bravest women I knew. And I would lay good money that she hadn’t flinched in the face of danger. Hadn’t been afraid to fight Eli. But now that the danger was past, she had time to think of how the situation could have turned out, had time to realize her life could have been very different in the matter of seconds. She could have been babyless, Zayless. They were realities she did not want to come true.

  And neither did I. I dug in my pocket with shaking fingers as I walked back down the porch stairs.

  “No time for cigarettes,” Terric said.

  I left them in my pocket. My hands weren’t steady enough to light them anyway. It was almost frightening how much I wanted to do magic with Terric, to break it and make it into the glorious, dangerous force it used to be.

  And on the other hand it was the absolute last thing I wanted to do.

  “How long?” I asked.

  “Until the police get here?” he asked. “I think about a minute. If we’re going to do this, we need to do it fast.”

  Terric was calm, relaxed. Looked like he was talking about cataloging receipts, not breaking magic open like a ripe melon and letting all the fruity goodness spill out into the world.

  “Somewhere where they won’t interrupt us,” I said. “The car?”

  “Not enough space,” he said. “How about down by the river?”

  “River works for me.” We walked through the undeveloped lot, stepping over a low chain fence there and ignoring the sign that insisted we were trespassing. The rain had let off a bit, but it was a gray enough day that I couldn’t see the river, even though I could hear it—the lapping of water, the distant metal and engine sounds of boats and cranes. I knew we’d run into the refinery before we hit the sand or the river, but was happy when Terric stopped, after having walked only a few feet across the lot.